


We Are Alive

by My_Wife_Sharon_Raydor



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 07:10:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1419244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Wife_Sharon_Raydor/pseuds/My_Wife_Sharon_Raydor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is alive, and he feels it now more than ever. If he can just share his sentiments with this one woman...</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Are Alive

**Author's Note:**

> 1) This is inspired by the kisses exchange by Chief Tyrol and Lt. Valerii, as well as Billy and Dee during the mini-series. I cannot overlook the chemistry between Mary and Jamie, as well as how their characters were written, hence this fic and pairing (despite knowing which pairing becomes canon in the end).
> 
> 2) This work is un-beta'd; I apologize in advance for any errors in grammar, spelling, or other possible mistakes. Critiques are very much appreciated!

_Welcome back, captain, it’s nice to see you again._

_I know who you are.  
But Captain Apollo has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?_

Ever since the attack has happened, she had been the only one who has fully acknowledged his presence. So much as far as his being captain, his being Apollo—being _Lee_ , not being _Adama_. She made him feel special, though he felt as ordinary just like everyone else.

 _Unlike her,_ he thinks. _Now_ she’s _special_. He watched this woman, Laura Roslin, take control of Colonial Heavy 798 and its people, then be able to think far ahead: rescuing survivors amid the attacks, the continued existence of humanity even before she was declared president of the twelve colonies. She took the meaning of level-headedness to the next level: she is in the middle of the holocaust of humanity, and yet she takes time to even consider one person; saw him and knew him, and made sure she knew he is _not living in the shadow of his father._

He watched her take the oath to presidency--with shaking hands and voice, but with resolve, nonetheless. The worlds end, and the survival of humanity falls on your shoulders which was not in your agenda when you woke up that day. _She accepted it anyway._ Lee thought: _This is a person—a_ woman— _to be admired._

With little that he could do compared to what Roslin was doing, he saved the civilian fleet by creating the pseudo-nuclear explosion.

_Thank you, Captain Apollo, for saving our collective asses._

He has never felt more alive.

* * *

He swears he just saw Boomer and Tyrol kiss along the corridors of Galactica. Probably, _make out_ is a better term for it, and they’re doing it in front of a kid, too. A tinge of jealousy rumbles in his chest as he groans his disbelief when he walked past the scene. To be frakking honest, he has the most overwhelming urge to kiss someone, himself. The fact that his blood is still pumping, twice faster than usual, makes him all the more excited _to_ _get to her,_ share this awesome feeling with her. And while he just spoke with Kara—filled with sentiments and all, and it she comes across as very much a lady to him—she just _isn’t_ who he has in mind for a good kiss.

And there, there _she is,_ walking out of the conference room after his father. He imagines their conversation did not go well, judging by the look on her face. But frakking hell, he never noticed how damn well those legs of hers look when they were aboard Colonial One—he was too busy admiring her steadfastness and rationality up close. He stands behind a column to hide himself as he observes her:  she takes her time outside the doorway, left hand on a jutted hip, brows furrowing, eyes shutting, pinching her nose at an obviously stressful thought germinating in her mind. Though it isn’t befitting for such a respectable woman, Captain Apollo strikes at the president during this very moment. He approaches her while the corridors are sparse of people. Quietly and quickly, he walks towards her, and he isn’t surprised that she still heard him approach.

She looks at him, hands on her sides. _Oh, those beautiful green eyes,_ he thinks. She whispers, his knees almost give away, “Captain Apollo—

He puts his forefinger across his lips, shushing the president immediately. His heart races as he closes in on her, those parted lips due to surprise drawing him in some more. As soon as she was within his arm’s length, he takes her right hand and kisses a protruding knuckle. 

 _Oh, gods_ , he thinks. Her skin feels baby soft against his lips, each contact sending a shiver down his spine, and a pulsating awakening in his groin. He hears her breath hitch, and he expects that she’d pull her hand away. But she doesn’t, and so Lee continues his ministrations, slowly proceeding towards the second, third, fourth knuckle, her hand trembling in his as he moves forward. Before he reaches the smallest and the last, he hears her ask:

“What are you doing, captain?”

When he looks up, he sees not the president, but Laura—eyes glazed, a flush spread on her face, down her chest, looking very much _alive_. He can feel her breath on his face, warm and fast as she pants. He kisses her smallest knuckle, watching her close her mouth and visibly swallow.

All he could think of are _We’re alive_ and how beautiful Laura Roslin is. He doesn’t fight back a smile when he realizes these both. He licks his lips quickly before he tugs on her hand in his to pull her closer as he leans in for a kiss on those warm, plump lips. He presses on softly, feeling her fleshy lips against his, though she remains unresponsive.

 _Sweet lords of Kobol._ That does it for him. His body is mad for more. He lifts up his right hand cups her face along her jaw line, the pad of his thumb brushing slowly along her cheekbone. Three seconds—the longest one of his life—and he pulls away, more aware of how alive he is at this very moment: his pulse pounding in his ears, and the feeling of the skin of the woman right against his cheek.

“Lee.” Her voice is shaky, much like when she took the oath.

He lets go of her face, then snakes his arms around her waist before he burrows his face in the crook of her neck, kissing the very little exposed skin there, one, two times.

Before he could go any further, the president has wrapped her arms around him, returning his embrace. She kisses his ear before she whispers, sounding happy, “We’re alive.”

He hums his agreement, squeezing her just a tad bit tighter, the feel of her body against him becomes too much to bear. Inhaling deeply, then exhaling excruciatingly slow as he gradually let her lose from his embrace. The president herself pulls away, and when he looks at her, he sees hope glimmering on her eyes. He wishes he sees it right, that like him, feeling and knowing alive is enough to spark a hope.

It isn’t the kiss he was expecting to give, nor receive, but it is damn well good enough to remind him that he is still breathing and feeling, and that he has something to live his life for. It might be the woman in his arms at this very moment, to see how she would successfully see humanity through this ordeal, and also ask her if this incident could be more than just a kiss of celebration.

Her hands are on his chest as they watch each other with smiles on their eyes. Though another kiss is definitely appealing, Lee’s afraid he would not be able to restrict it to a mere chaste exchange. The president of the colonies is needed by her people, and she will not be delayed by a hormone-driven man. So he drops his hands from her waist to his sides, breathes deeply as her hands fall away from his chest. She licks her lips quickly, making Lee bite the inside of his lower lips, fighting the urge to kiss her once more.

“Madam President.” He nods at her, not feeling remotely awkward as he watches her smile appear on her lips.

To his surprise, she swiftly kisses the corner of his mouth, feeling her wet lips press on his skin briefly, sending another jolt of current through his entire body. She pulls away, standing at a decent distance away from him now, tugging on her jacket to straighten herself up, “You _will_ have to give me a proper kiss later, Captain Apollo.”

“Whenever it pleases you, sir.” His hands are now safely clasped together behind his back.

She giggles shortly, before walking past him, headed towards the hatch where Colonial One is docked. He watches her every step as she walks further away, but in his mind, he has already wandered to when and how the proper kiss will be delivered to the president. His father will probably not approve of it, but at this point, he doesn't give a frak. He smiles widely, then turning away towards the CIC to see how else he can serve for the president and fleet.


End file.
